


Two Escalators

by MysteryWriter36



Category: Original Work
Genre: Creepy, Diary/Journal, F/M, Mystery, idk how to tag this, takes place in Casper Wyoming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteryWriter36/pseuds/MysteryWriter36
Summary: Carter Smith is curious about why the entire state of Wyoming is home to only one set of escalators. What he discovers is far from what he could have ever imagined.





	Two Escalators

**Author's Note:**

> Just a creepy little piece I wrote for creative writing class. Slightly inspired by one of my favorite shows, Gravity Falls.

_May 22nd, 2010_

Two escalators. That’s what they tell you. Two escalators in the entire state.

“We just never built more,” some workers say.

“They aren’t needed, so why bother?” a citizen may comment.

But then, I wonder, why did they make those two elevators in Casper, Wyoming in the first place? And why are they still there?

I thought traveling to Casper would give me the answer. But the more time I spent in The Oil City, as it was nicknamed, the less I understood. And the less I wished to.

“Why are they here? Why were they built?” I ask every day.

“Why do you care?” someone responds.

“Why does it matter?” someone shoots back.

“They’ve been here as long as I can remember,” an older woman, Valerie, tells me, “I can’t remember a time in my life when they weren’t there.

“Have you ever used them?” I ask her.

She stares at me blankly. She looks back at the escalators.

“Have I ever used what?”

I give up.

* * *

_June 18th, 2010_

Three weeks and no answers leaves me tired and frustrated, staring at the screen of my laptop in the dead of night and wondering what I’m missing. An hour later, I’m no less frustrated, and no closer to an answer. I drop my pen, comb a hand through my hair, and sigh. Knowing that I can’t spend all night sulking in my hotel room, I leave.

Walking down the street, surrounded by the quiet of the streets and the dim streetlights, I feel a sense of calm finally wash over me. I glance at my phone, shocked to see that it’s nearly three in the morning, but I don’t stop walking.

After several more minutes, something causes me to stop. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my body feels cold. The light seems to have gotten brighter. Something, some unknown force, turns my head, and I see the bank across the street.

Through the large window, I see nothing. It’s as if the inside of the window has been painted over with reflective white paint. The unknown force is back, pulling me towards the bank as if I’m magnetically attracted to it. Or perhaps, it’s my imagination trying to find something to blame.

When I am finally across the street and face to face with the window, I can see inside, but only just barely. The light is blinding, but I can make out several figures. Had I not known any better, I would have labeled them as humans. But their wings told a different story. Each being had a different set, varying in size, shape, and color.

As I stare, trying to take in everything I can’t believe that I’m witnessing, one of the beings stares back at me. I can feel my heart stop and my blood run cold.

“Go.” I hear someone say. “Now.”

I stay for just a second longer, staring into the endless black eyes of the strange being, before I turn on my heel and run away as fast as I can.

I don’t know what I saw, but I hope that one day I might.

* * *

_June 21st, 2010_

I tried to return to the bank at the same time, but that voice that I heard (the being that stared at me, I think) warned me to turn back. I listened.

I must confess, however, that my curiosity is winning. The pull I feel towards the escalators and whatever is happening in there is much stronger the urge to flee from this town and never look back.

* * *

After several minutes of thinking, I’ve made my decision. I’m going back tonight. I must know what is happening.

* * *

I have made a mistake. I haven’t much time. I fear that as I write, they are after me. But I must preserve my research. To whoever finds this, you should know

  * This town is NOT NORMAL
  * These beings are powerful
  * STAY AWAY from the bank!!!
  * Do not make the mistakes I have made. 
  * If you find this,  **RUN**



 

Whoever you are, I pray you take my advice and leave this place. It isn’t natural. It isn’t safe. Tell no one of what you have read. Leave and never turn back. The people who are here are certainly oblivious of the mysteries of these other-worldly beings. Just go. Go and neve

* * *

 

  


 

* * *

_December 26th, 2010_

This year certainly got off to a strange start! Or rather, the second half of it did. Getting into a car crash in the middle of May and spending two months in a coma is certainly no fun. But I was thankful that so many strangers in Casper came to see me and bring me flowers.

Especially a sweet older lady named Valerie. She seemed familiar, as if we had met before, but she told me I must be mistaking her for someone else. She introduced me to her granddaughter at last night’s Christmas party at the bank, a beautiful young woman just a year younger than me. I’m thinking about working up the courage to ask her to dinner.

Speaking of the bank, I am so grateful they hired me a couple of weeks after I was released from the hospital! It seems like a very nice place, despite the strangeness of the presence of escalators. The townspeople tell me they’re the only escalators in all of Wyoming. What a strange thing.

So much has happened since I was released from the hospital in late July, but I don’t have enough time right now to write it all down. But I’m looking forward to doing so later, after my shift at the bank is over. Until next time, journal.

* * *

_November 1st, 2011_

Dear Journal, sorry I’ve been neglecting you ever since I got to this town. I managed to ask Jessica, Valerie’s granddaughter, out to dinner a couple weeks after Christmas. It’s been perfection from there. Last night, I proposed to her. I know Halloween is a silly choice for the day to ask someone to marry you, but its Jessica’s favorite holiday. And Jessica is my favorite person. I love her with all of my heart, and I can’t wait until we’ve made a family together here in Casper, Wyoming.

I don’t remember why I came to Casper, but I thank myself and God every day that I did. While being here has brought on strange dreams of winged beings, I do believe that the joy of being with Jessica outweighs enduring odd dreams.  

I fear that this is my final entry. I do hope that should any read this, they are truly entertained by the thirty-seven years of life I have led up until this point. I also apologized for the four pages before this being ink-stained and illegible.

Until we meet again,  
_Carter Smith_

* * *

_June 8th, 2018_

Dear Carter Smith,

My name is Mason, and I am 22 years old. I know that you cannot read what I have written here today, but I feel as though it is best to address you, seeing as how this is your journal. I found this journal hidden away in the back of a thrift shop under several piles of books in Augustus, Maine. I don’t know how it got here. But I felt drawn to it the moment I saw it. I can’t explain it. Perhaps it is the strange force that you describe in your entry on June 18th of 2010.

Speaking of said entry, you say that the four pages preceding your final entry were ink-stained and illegible. But they are not. I can read every word, and I am overcome with a mix of fear and curiosity. I wonder if you’re still alive. I wonder what became of you and your wife and the bank in Casper.

But after reading the entries in this journal and giving it some thought, I have decided that I will wonder no longer. I may not know what happened to you after November 1st, 2011, but I’ll be finding out soon. Next week, I will leave for Casper. It seems that the First National Bank of Casper, Wyoming could use a new visitor. I hope to be seeing you soon.

Sincerely,  
_Mason Anderson_

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed this! You can also find me on my tumblr @mysterywriter36


End file.
